


Every Guitar String Scar On My Hand

by onethingsuniversal



Category: The Prom (2020), The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Baby Fluff, Emma teaches Rosie to play the guitar, F/F, Fluff, Guitar, I don't know what else to tag this with but it's very sweet, Music, Music Lessons, greenlan as parents, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28754397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onethingsuniversal/pseuds/onethingsuniversal
Summary: Music is the food of the soul, or something along those lines. Emma had never been one for quotes, but music, music she knew. She’d been gifted her first guitar by her Grandpa when she turned eight years old, him handing it to her and saying something about it being the gift that would keep giving. He had been right, and music quickly became her strongest crutch.orEmma's relationship with her guitar, how it made her who she turned out to be and inspiring her own love for it in her daughter.
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Every Guitar String Scar On My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I posted the second ( and final chapter ) of 'All You Need Is Love' if you haven't read that yet, and you've been waiting for it - just mentioning it as it showed up strangely under the tag.
> 
> Anyway, have another Rosie fic because we all know I will never stop writing them! This concept has been floating around for a little while, so I'm glad I got to bring it to life and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you to Kate ( AnotherUsernameIllForget ) ofc, for reading the beginning of this and chatting to me about it ( and probably inspiring the original idea ).
> 
> ( Title from 'Lover' by Taylor Swift )( Of course )

Music is the food of the soul, or something along those lines. Emma had never been one for quotes, but music, music she knew. She’d been gifted her first guitar by her Grandpa when she turned eight years old, him handing it to her and saying something about it being the gift that would keep giving. He had been right, and music quickly became her strongest crutch. When she’d sad beside him and learnt to strum her first chords something inside her came alight. Once he had passed away, which was an entirely devastating event for her and her Gran, eleven-year-old Emma vowed she would keep loving and learning the Guitar, in an attempt to keep his memory alive for as long as possible through the flicker of rhythm she held in her body. That was something she held herself accountable for, though the genuine joy she gained from it didn’t make that too difficult- and to this day that flame still roared and served an escape from any ounce of harsh reality she found herself facing.

If she’d had a bad day at elementary school, maybe because she’d done badly in her weekly spelling test or she’d tripped and scuffed her knee during recess, the first thing she would do after arriving home and shrugging off her backpack would be reaching for her guitar. She’d sit for hours, just plucking mindless melodies until she was eventually called down for dinner and begrudgingly set the instrument on its stand to join her parents at the dinner table. The faint buzz of the tune she’d spent the past hours mastering still running around her mind as she listened to the boring drone of whatever conversation her parents were trying to engage her in.

Then in high school, when her thoughts and theories regarding her sexuality became so terrifying and loud, she found that the only thing that would drown it out were the humming of the metal strings as her fingers brushed against them. When she played it was just her and her guitar, nobody else was there. Nobody else could touch her. Not the bullies who relentlessly taunted her because they noticed how she was different, and they were scared of what that meant for the God that was preached at them constantly. Not her parents who wanted her to change because no daughter of theirs would choose that lifestyle and then kicked her out when she protested that it wasn’t something she could choose. Not the confusing feelings that flooded her conscience whenever she saw a certain brunette float past her in the busy corridors, or the rush of butterflies that overwhelmed her when that girl kissed her in the musty-smelling band closet and eventually became her best kept secret.

Music kept her safe from the cruel world, no matter what it tried to throw at her.

Having a child changed Emma’s perspective on a lot of things, her own relationship she had with her parents and also how ridiculously expensive babies and all the related products they needed were. But one thing that didn’t shift was her love for music. If anything, it cemented it- Emma always referred to one specific event that highlighted just how true that was.

That particular night had been hell. The new parents were beginning to think that two weeks into their daughter’s life, they were getting the hang of things and starting to form routines that might somehow enable them to get more than a couple hours of sleep each night and subsequently reduce their reliance on coffee just slightly. But all it took was that one especially sleepless night for any hope or confidence to be crushed.

They had tried everything. Everything. She was fed, clean, warm- but not too warm, and still the baby screamed mercilessly. Emma was pacing lightly along the foot of the bed rocking the writhing new-born in her arms, although it was creeping into the early hours of the morning and the lack of sleep for the day made her eyelids feel heavy and her feet heavy, she kept moving, hoping to whatever higher power who cared to listen that it would provide at least some comfort, since if the mother tried to sit down, she’d only cry harder.

“Emma come on- let me have a turn…” Alyssa tried, shifting herself up to sitting against the headboard of the bed and rubbing a hand against her tired eyes, she knew that although she was notoriously the more stubborn of the pair, sleep-deprived Emma liked to challenge Alyssa’s title in that respect.

“No. Sleep ‘Lyssa, I’ll get her down eventually.” Emma retorted, voice thick with drowsiness, but she didn’t relent her movements and began shushing softly down to the bundle of blankets in her arms, a hint of desperation in the noise that was drowned out by the wails. She should be more than capable to get the baby to sleep and Alyssa had taken the majority of the night shifts already that week. Why she wasn’t just taking the chance to sleep was beyond her. Although rational Emma could probably realise that had something to do with the high-pitched wailing currently coming from their daughter- in that moment, Emma was far from rational.

Alyssa sighed as she watched her wife rake a hand through her messy blonde hair, she wasn’t going to argue. She was too tired for that. She wracked her brain, trying desperately to think of something they could do to soothe the still-crying infant. Then it hit her as her eyes glazed across the room and landed on the well-loved guitar sat on its stand in the corner…

“Why don’t you try playing something for her love?” Alyssa suggested, there was, of course, a possibility that it wouldn’t work but the situation had become desperate and from the way Emma was swaying slightly on her feet she was about ready to pass out shortly.

Emma nodded, stepping cautiously over long-forgotten laundry that littered the floor beside the bed to pass Rosie over to her wife, who took her gently into her own arms and readjusted the soft swaddle she was wrapped in whilst the blonde retrieved the guitar from across the room.

Plucking soft strings to check how far in tune they were, Emma returned back to the pair and perched herself on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath to steady her stress-induced shaky hands.

Then something magical happened.

Emma wordlessly began to strum a vaguely familiar chord sequence over the top of the littlest family member’s howling, glittering the simple refrain with a few plucked notes that twinkled like stars in the darkness of their bedroom.

And as she did so, the bawling softened into keening which melted into quiet whimpers before fading out into the tell-tale grunts that caused both parents to silently exhale in deep relief. She’d finally fallen asleep. Emma went to pull her hands away from the fretboard, satisfied that the instrument had fulfilled its purpose, but quickly felt a hand on top of hers that kept it in its previous position.

“Keep playing for a minute, in case she wakes up” Alyssa whispered, that was half true. Sure the discontinuation of the music could stir the baby again, but the brunette adored Emma even more when she played the guitar and was enjoying the gentle melody more than she’d care to admit. Emma smiled sleepily, not caring to question her wife’s request and continuing to lazily idle away at the guitar until she heard a second set of soft snores fill the room.

Smiling to herself and simultaneously clocking that no noise meant she could finally catch forty winks herself, she ceased her playing and carefully set the guitar down leaning against the ledge of the windowsill. Before scooping the baby out of the now-sleeping woman’s arms to lay her in the bassinet that lived next to the double bed, leaning down to kiss her daughter gently on the forehead. It might be utterly exhausting but the infant was quite frankly the cutest thing she’d ever laid eyes upon.

Emma slipped into the bed tacitly, careful not to make a single noise that could undo the calm that filled the room, getting comfortable as her eyes quickly fell shut and her mind began drifting into the hazy familiarity of rest. But before she did so she realised something that caused a recognisable heat in her chest- music had once again saved her, even if in the grand scheme of things it had only been a small victory.

As much as Rosie getting older stirred up all sorts of emotions for the moms, Emma had always been secretly excited for when she’d finally be big enough to start properly learning guitar. That wasn’t to say she wanted her to grow up. Honestly it was quite the opposite and if she could she’d keep her baby just that for ten times as long but the prospect of sharing her love for the thing that had helped her through her life more than any other object made the thoughts surrounding their blossoming toddler slightly more bearable.

Sure as a very inquisitive toddler Rosie had been somewhat interested in the guitar alongside the various sounds and noises it made when her mama played her favourite songs to her, but she still wasn’t at a point where Emma could sit down and teach her which was clear from the size discrepancy between her and the guitar. The toddler loved dancing around the living room to the tune of ‘Seasons of Love’ (her personal favourite) alongside other various pieces that Emma had learnt through the years. And it never failed to make her day when Emma would let Rosie ‘help’ strum the instrument- even if unbeknownst to the toddler, her action was more of a hit then a strum, it was still endlessly fun.

A few years later, when Rosie’s strumming technique had greatly improved, Emma and Alyssa were brainstorming and attempting to get some online shopping done one evening for their eldest daughter’s seventh birthday that was coming up in the next week or so, a certain idea crossed Emma’s mind. The six-year-old had begun to take a keen interest in music recently, constantly asking if she could play her mom’s guitar that lived in the corner of the living room. Emma had tried to teach her a few times, but Rosie was still just a little bit too small, as eager as she was, and tiny hands struggled to manoeuvre around the full-sized fretboard. Though a full-sized guitar was not the only option, and she quickly typed into the search engine and pulled up a familiar website before tilting her laptop around to face her wife, who was sat next to her on the plush couch.

“What about a guitar?” Emma proposed as Alyssa glazed over the screen that was displaying a half-sized guitar, from an online store front to a chain music store that Emma knew had a branch in their local town.

“Ooh, that sounds like a plan, she’s been asking to learn, hasn’t she?” Alyssa asked, nodding enthusiastically at her wife’s idea. She’d been struggling to come up with any ideas herself, it was rather difficult to buy gifts for a kid who was content with a pack of crayons and a notepad, especially when Rosie had gotten distracted every single time she’d tried to broach the topic of a birthday wish-list, the only cohesive answer she’d gotten was ‘birthday cake’ which was a given for her special day.

“All the time, I’ve tried but mine is just a little big on her. She probably won’t expect it either so it’ll be cute to surprise her.” Emma mused, searching the website for the perfect instrument for their daughter.

“You want to find one then darling?” Alyssa requested, knowing that Emma was better equipped to pick out this particular present, before returning back to her quest to find a random, oddly specific toy Rosie had mentioned in passing a few weeks prior.

Emma hummed in concession, as she finally landed on a guitar that looked similar to hers, a miniature version you could say. Perfect.

“The gift that’ll keep on giving.” Emma said under her breath as she checked out on the webstore. Alyssa heard the quiet comment and smiled to herself, understanding how much this particular milestone meant to Emma even if it was seemingly small.

“Go on and open up that big one Ro!” Alyssa encouraged the birthday girl, who had gotten a little distracted by the ‘Mickey Mouse Clubhouse’ colouring book that she’d been sent by DeeDee and Mr Hawkins from Indiana. The brunette smiled as she watched her wife’s attention snap away from their youngest, Juniper, the toddler she was wrestling down from climbing up on the edge of the couch, and back to Rosie at the mention of the biggest present that she was not-so-secretly most excited for. The woman was if anything, a little emotional about how quickly the last seven years had passed her by, and it felt as if it was only yesterday the parents were bringing home a new-born who would change their lives in the best way, but the joy and graceful gratitude Rosie had shown upon opening previous presents made the mom so proud, and even if she wished she’d stayed little for just a short while longer, she was glad things had turned out how they had.

Rosie got to work pulling the brightly coloured, patterned paper off of the final, largest gift in the middle of the room, fuelled entirely by the adrenaline, excitement radiating off of her as she did so. Most people would say that opening up gifts on their birthday was one of the most exciting yearly events, and to a child that feeling of joy and anticipation was easily three times as intense.

The little girl gasped when she finally finished unwrapping and revealed the box with a label that revealed its contents with a small picture, “A real life guitar? A Rosie sized one? Thank you thank you!” The now seven-year-old shrieked, jumping for joy at the discovery, “Please can you please help me open it mommy?” 

Alyssa grinned at the girl and stepped across the room to help her open the little box, sharing a knowing look with Emma, who was sat with Juniper on her lap, before asking Rosie the all-important question.

“Do you like it Ro?” Alyssa prompted, eager to know if her wife’s suggestion was as good an idea as she’d thought it herself.

“I love it so much!” Rosie reverberated, turning to her mom, who was sitting on the couch with her little sister, “Mama, will you teach me to play it just like you?” she asked expectantly as she pulled it out of the case it had come in and admired the new instrument with wide eyes, running her hand across the smooth wooden seam and walking towards where her mom was sitting to show off her gift- not realising that it was Emma’s choice, not that Emma minded. This was something she was more than happy to be shown.

“Of course, I will baby, I’d love to.” Emma responded genuinely, pressing a kiss to her eldest daughter’s forehead, feeling oddly emotional at the question. To be able to start sharing her love with Rosie in a way that she’d been unable to in the past was rather overwhelming since it had always been her dream to teach her own children to play the instrument that was so close to her heart, just like-

“Just like your grandpa did.” Rosie said wisely, unaware of the tears that pricked in both of her mother’s eyes at her comment. Alyssa because of how sweet the interaction between her wife and daughter, and how much she knew it meant to the former. And Emma because of the fact that this was nothing less than a dream come true.

“Ok Ro, you’re going to place your pointy finger… there” Emma instructed, carefully shifting her daughter’s finger into the right place, “And then this one… there, and finally those two… there.” She said, smiling down at the girl she was trying to teach, who was sat on her knee with her little guitar in her own lap.

“Like that?” Rosie said, tongue poking out between her lips as she concentrated on perfecting the chord pattern her mom was showing her.

“Just like that!” Emma praised, “Now, can you strum with your right hand just like we were doing before? Down down down.”

Rosie tried to do as Emma instructed, but when she used her free hand to play the strings she felt her left fingers slipping, and she couldn’t get them to stay in the correct place. This frustrated Rosie and she huffed out loud. Emma noticed the irritation in her daughter’s mannerisms and spoke up softly again.

“You can do it tiny- try again… see, that one there and those ones here.” Emma said as she repositioned Rosie’s fingers and held them gently in place so Rosie could focus on her other hand for the time being. After she felt that the little girl had gotten a little more comfortable with the strumming action, she wordlessly let go of her left hand, leaving her to play it all by herself- which she did.

The blonde beamed as Rosie successfully played the chord of “D’ after a few more attempts, and then smiled widely up at her mom as she strummed it a few more times to prove it to Emma.

“I did it! I did it mama!” She squeaked, proud of the new achievement, her little hands shaking around the fretboard of her guitar. The pair had spent at least an hour a week playing together since her birthday the month before, and Rosie had now mastered four entire chords, ‘E minor’, ‘A’ and ‘C’- and newly the ‘D’.

“You did do it! You played a new chord, clever girl!” Emma flattered, kissing the headful of curly brown curls that were under her chin.

“I played a new chord!” Rosie echoed, laughing with pride at her accomplishment. 

Teaching the little girl had been everything Emma had always wanted it to be and seeing her learn and come on in leaps and bounds since she’d started instructing her had filled her with a new sense of pride. She hoped that the girl would always strive to improve the way she was currently doing, because she would always be willing to teacher her for as long as she wanted to learn. Emma she wished that her own love of music would translate into her daughter’s relationship with it.

“Hey ma- how do I play a- B7add13…?” the teenager read off of the piece of music she was learning, as she sunk onto the couch next to her mom, guitar in her other hand.

“Hmm? Oh- let me show you.” Emma said to her eldest daughter, looking away from the TV show she’d been watching moments before, “Pass me that then.” Emma requested, taking the instrument from her hands, smiling fondly at the memories that it held in the grain of the wood. She’d offered to replace the guitar multiple times, now that Rosie was old enough and big enough to play a full-sized guitar, but she’d refused- saying that she liked her first one too much and she didn’t want to let go yet, even if it was nearly seven years ago.

Emma placed her fingers onto the worn-out fretboard of her daughter’s guitar, in the shape of the chord she’d interrupted to ask after, explaining it to her with language she knew was as second nature to herself as it was to Rosie. She’d never given up on their weekly guitar lessons and the girl had stayed interested and engaged enough to become pretty good at playing the instrument- Emma was proud of her of course, despite the fact that she was maybe, all in good humour, a little competitive towards her daughter’s talent.

Rosie took the guitar back off of her mom and played the chord a few times, Emma adjusting her technique just slightly until it was near-perfect.

“Good job baby.” Emma praised, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, ruffling her curls that were tied into a low-ponytail like she’d done so many times after similar achievements. Rosie giggled as she blushed and pushed her mom’s hand away, a little embarrassed by the fuss and nostalgic gesture, though she secretly didn’t mind it too much she would never tell her that. 

“Jeez, all I did was ask for a bit of help.” Rosie teased her mom lightly.

“I know, I know but you could have googled it, but you came to me for help so I’m allowed to be proud of you.” She retorted, smiling at the girl.

Emma knew that she was a little embarrassing sometimes, but she was a mom to nearly two teenagers, she was allowed to be embarrassing sometimes, and she was proud of her daughter, so proud, she wasn’t going to hold back any affection.

Music had provided Emma with many positive memories, but those that she shared with Rosie were here favourite, and made her so glad she’d received the gift of her first guitar that had enabled her to bond with her daughter through something so beautiful and meaningful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a bunch for reading! I hope you enjoyed and comments & kuddos are always appreciated <3


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